You know it's a new day in the Giants-Dodgers rivalry when the major topics include scooters, medieval helmets and Yasiel Puig's maturity. It's safe to say this time-honored theater has seldom been more compelling.

Looking back, it's always been about contrasts. From the moment the Giants arrived in San Francisco, they crafted an image of fearsome power hitting against the Dodgers' superlative arms. The flamboyant Tommy Lasorda managed against stern Frank Robinson, Humm Baby Roger Craig and an ex-Dodger with a grudge, Dusty Baker. Barry Bonds did a pirouette out of the batter's box (1997) and left an L.A. franchise in ruins.

There's a hint of the mismatch in this season's dynamic, and the Dodgers know it. While the Giants cavort, savoring the beauty of an all-for-one clubhouse, the Dodgers have been pouting, complaining and putting forth only sporadic bursts of energy. Manager Don Mattingly has admitted being concerned about their absent "sense of urgency," and when Adrian Gonzalez was asked recently about an apparent lack of motivation among his teammates, he responded with a terse "no comment."

Still, don't you get the feeling this is leading to something monumental? Scanning the anticipated threats around the National League - Washington, Atlanta, Pittsburgh, St. Louis and Cincinnati, while casting serious doubts about Milwaukee's hot start - it's easy to imagine the Giants and Dodgers meeting in the postseason.

Make no mistake, attitude can be a very misleading barometer of a team's ability. Through time, a whole bunch of fussin', feudin' teams have been spectacularly good on the field, all the way to a World Series title. So this isn't about predictions, but rather a healthy respect for the Dodgers' potential and the anticipation of things to come.

It's common to see a fun-loving atmosphere surrounding a dominant team, but the Giants have taken it to a glorious extreme. I can't remember being around a more humble, genuine, self-effacing bunch of ballplayers, and most of these guys know what it takes to win it all. It's a fabulous combination. So here comes Hunter Pence, his stolen scooter a national story. There's Pablo Sandoval, clinging to a pair of Madison Bumgarner's cowboy boots for good luck. Check out the immensely likable Michael Morse, right at the center of things as teammates collect classic war helmets from centuries past.

(Let's hope that one stays in the clubhouse, by the way. It's one thing for fans to wear hats styled after pandas and giraffes. A fully helmeted crowd would be downright weird, not to mention annoying for fans having their views blocked by a scene from "Gladiator.")

The Giants have a bunch of guys you'd love to get to know off the field, from the ever-so-country Bumgarner to the gentlemanly Javier Lopez. I thought Tim Hudson did a great thing Sunday in St. Louis, reacting with horror when he inadvertently fired a fastball off Allen Craig's helmet. The standard pitcher's response is simply to stand there, stoically, essentially telling the fallen victim to get over it. Hudson jogged toward the scene to make sure Craig was OK, then made a point of approaching him in the infield when the inning was over.

That's pure class - not a term often associated with the Dodgers. They have their own group of stellar individuals, notably Clayton Kershaw (who tossed a gem against the White Sox on Monday), second baseman Dee Gordon and the currently injured A.J. Ellis and Juan Uribe. But they have become known for strife, blatant cockiness and maddening inconsistency, not to mention a distinct lack of clear leadership.

Their crowded outfield situation is a powder keg laced with suspicion. Matt Kemp, so recently an excellent center fielder and one of the game's top five talents, was benched (for five games) and then put out to pasture (left field) for erratic play in every phase. Whenever he's not playing, there's a simmering fire in the clubhouse - and it could get ugly once Carl Crawford comes off the disabled list.

Andre Ethier is the team's best center fielder, but Mattingly likes Scott Van Slyke out there as well. Ethier and Mattingly have long been at odds, to the point where they had a public shouting match in the dugout Saturday. To compound matters, the Dodgers have a fast-rising minor-leaguer out of Palo Alto, Joc Pederson, who has the organization torn between a jolt of energy (call him up, sooner than later) and the future (trade him while his stock his high).

All over the diamond, the Dodgers represent defiance, from Hanley Ramirez's gaudy follow-through to Kemp's damaged pride to Brian Wilson's comically dreadful beard. All of which leads, naturally, to Puig - absolutely the least of the Dodgers' worries.

It has been one year, exactly, since he made his big-league debut. Vin Scully dubbed him "The Wild Horse," and overly sensitive critics took it the wrong way, as if the mercurial Cuban outfielder was really just an animal in essence, impossible to tame. In fact, none of the wise heads in the Dodgers' organization wanted him tamed - merely refined a bit. They reveled in his ability to create excitement, entice fans, torment the opposition and make plays out of an ordinary man's dream. "Special" doesn't begin to describe his talent.

"I sure hope he never changes," Scully said on the air this week, knowing that Puig is rapidly gaining a handle on his emotions and his game. His play in right field could not be more spectacular. He's hitting for average and power, drawing walks, swinging at far fewer pitches out of the strike zone than he did last year. "The enthusiasm remains," wrote Tim Brown on Yahoo.com, "and sometimes that finds him hopelessly trapped between bases, or clearing 300 feet worth of cutoff men, or heroic in the conclusion, but the drama seems to suit him, and L.A. has fallen for him."

Never forget that the Dodgers rode Puig's magnificence to a 42-8 run last summer, and they're easily capable of an encore (probably not to that extent, but enough to catch the Giants). So what's the next move for Brian Sabean?

History suggests he'll do something by the trading deadline, if only to strengthen the bench or second base. Some have suggested there's a larger move at hand: a trade for a starting pitcher, perhaps the Cubs' Jeff Samardzija, who doesn't carry the burden of becoming a free agent after the 2015 season.

At least a half-dozen contenders will push hard for Samardzija, and it's questionable whether the Giants have enough glowing prospects - led by Kyle Crick, the best pitcher in their organization - to make it happen. There's also the matter of Tim Lincecum, who probably would be moved to the bullpen. Really, though: Why not? Wouldn't another first-rate starter put the Giants straight into the World Series? And along those lines, what if the Dodgers traded for Samardzija, David Price or James Shields?

By any measure, baseball summers don't get more intriguing than the one ahead.